The Savage Soul
by Balin Lord of Moria
Summary: After a fierce space-battle, General Grievous is stranded on the forest moon of Endor. As he looks for a way off, he meets a terrifying native creature he must fight, and a team of relay battle droids who are slacking off on the job. Battle droids are OCs. Action from Grievous, comedy from the droids.


This is my second Confederate Star Wars: The Clone Wars story in the Clone Wars: Confederacy series. General Grievous, a vicious animal, and a host of battle droids are the stars of it. Grievous is the central star, while the battle droids provide some comic relief. Enjoy!

**Clone Wars: Confederacy: Part 2: The Savage Soul**

The Second Battle of Aargonar.

Malice. It is the one feeling that General Grievous feels the strongest. And right now, as his starfighter, the _Soulless One_, is flying away from a disgraceful defeat, it is at its peak.

But a General of the greatest droid army ever produced knows that he must give his malice focus, harness it and bend it to his will, to best use it not only against enemies, but against incompetent allies, too. His malice is what helps him regain control of his fighter, though its communications are knocked out, and its hyperdrive damaged.

He flies as far as he can, but eventually he realizes that there is only one Separatist outpost within his reach after flying so far.

Menace has been turned into strength. Revenge will have its day.

For now, Grievous' thoughts turn to survival… and the forest moon of Endor.

…

At the Separatist Relay Outpost RV-115…

A B2 super battle droid tosses a stone into the air.

A B1 battle droid blasts in its direction, but misses.

"There you go again, FB-24," says another battle droid, "You couldn't shoot a Gorax if it was right in your cranial face."

"I resent that, F-104!" says FB-24. "If that tree way over therewere my target, I could hit it four times out of five… On a good day."

"You don't even do target practice," says the super. "My unit and I practiced _every_ day. Well not absolutely _every_ day… I'd say it's a solid four times a week. And I could hit that three seven times out of ten, I have no doubt of that."

"Let's quit chatting and try again, losers!" F-104 says. "I mean, it will be night in a while."

"Roger, roger," say the droids together.

This time the super throws a log into the air. "That should be easier for you, FB-24," he jokes.

But before FB-24 can shoot it, a BX-series commando droid leaps into the vicinity and cuts it in two with its vibrosword.

"Hey! Unit 48, you maniac!" shouts FB-24, "I was going to shoot that!"

"Are you bucketheads just about finished, here?" 48 asks. "Because there are more important things to do than be idle at your post." He gestures around the outpost, where about a dozen and a half battle droids, commando droids and super battle droids are cavorting and playing and having a generally good time.

"Why are you always complaining, 48?" F-104 says. "Do you seriously have something important to do?"

"Yes, I do."

"Ha ha, ha ha ha! 48, you have been keeping this up since you were stationed here a week ago," says FB-24. "Don't you remember that we're on one of the most remote Separatist outposts there is?"

"Listen, 48, try to relax," it continues, "You'll have plenty of time to fill out maintenance reports, because we're going to be here a _long_ time."

"But what about regulations?" 48 protests. "What about our duty? What if there's a surprise inspection-?"

"An inspection? Ha!" says the super. "It's just the twenty-two of us out here. And we're all nice, clean droids. What is there to inspect? Quit whining and find us another log."

"Yeah, I'm determined to prove these guys wrong about my shooting talent," says FB-24.

…

The forest moon of Endor is largely covered in dense, redwood trees that grow to be very tall. If Grievous' navigational systems had been fully operative, this would have been accounted for and the ship's course corrected.

But Endor has other plans for General Grievous, as he crashes through a forest and lands with a thump on the hard soil of the moon.

…

"FB-24! FB-24, sir!" shouts Unit 48.

FB-24 is sitting on a makeshift lounge chair, sunning itself with a tanning sheet held above him by a crab droid, along with five other battle droids who are doing the same thing.

"Whoa, 48! You're talking too loud for the boys and I to relax by. What do you want?"

"The sensors picked up something, sir," 48 announces. "I think it's a ship. It landed about a hundred and fifty klicks to the east of here-"

"Aw, don't worry about it," FB-24 dismisses the report. "It was probably just one of those stupid Goraxes prowling the planet, always cutting down trees by the half dozen."

"Are you even listening to me?" 48 protests. "It could be clones-"

"Please, just go relax, 48," FB-24 urges him.

"Oh fine…" 48 grumbles the best way a droid can grumble. "And let me just say that that's a very unapproved way to use an LM-432, to _sun yourself_. Pfft! No wonder you B1s all get cut down so fast and easy."

"What's up with him?" asks another B1 droid sitting next to FB-24.

"His circuits are loose," FB-24 answers. "He doesn't know when to accept a proven truth, like those older model B1s the Trade Federation used to use, who weren't capable of accepting anything, because they couldn't _think_!"

"Yeah, not like us," the other battle droid says, "We're independent thinkers."

"Roger, roger." "Roger, roger." "Roger, roger." "Roger, roger." "Roger, roger." "Roger, Roger," they all say together.

…

Grievous wanders the planet, knowing there is a relay outpost not too far from his crash site.

Alone on a planet teeming with wild life forms, sentient, semi-sentient, and non-sentient alike, thoughts of the Confederacy and of Count Dooku's reprimands soon evaporate from his mind. Here, he is his own master, and beholden to none.

He hears a rustle in the trees nearby, and then a sound like heavy footsteps, more than one set of them, trampling the ground and snapping fallen branches and twigs.

He pauses, and looks around, as two giant beasts come around the corner from behind the trees next to him, one on either side. One appears slightly larger than the other. They walk on all fours, and their bodies are about three meters tall. Evidently, they are canines.

No, not just canines. They are borra, or boar-wolves, a monstrous species of carnivorous animals native to Endor, sometimes "domesticated" by the primitive semi-sentient Gorax. This seemed to be a young adult borra and its old, but still strong, mother.

Unfortunately, like many untamed worlds, Endor is a dangerous place for anything on its own.

Though not highly intelligent, the borra there know that Grievous is not made of anything they can eat, but they love a challenge, taking down anything that moves in their territory, whether it's edible or not. And they see the Kaleesh General as an intruder, and a powerful one.

The borra attack.

The young borra lunges at Grievous, who somersaults out of the way, splits his arms in two, and ignites all four of his trophy lightsabers.

It swipes its left front paw at him, but he strikes, swinging a lightsaber through one long, sharp claw.

The mother attacks next. She leaps on top of him and attempts to crush him, her way of saying she does not want her son hurt.

Grievous slashes at her teeth and jaws with all four laser swords, giving her an agonizing pain in the mouth, but she does not give up.

Both borra pounce on him, knocking the lightsabers out of his hands, and the young one bites down on one of Grievous' four hands, damaging the wrist; but he slithers out from under them, and picks up one saber.

The mother borra makes one more attempt to crush him; but Grievous cuts through her left eye and deep into her skull. She falls to the ground, dead. Then he points it in the direction of her child.

The young borra is dismayed, lowers its head, and walks away with its tail between its legs.

And at that moment, as he tends to his wounded hand, Grievous learns something.

Even here there are leaders, and followers. Having taken the life of one of Endor's most savage predators, a strange feeling comes over Grievous. Beyond his life-sustaining machinery and militaristic discipline, Grievous feels an exhilarating rush of joy, joy like he hadn't felt since he, as Qymaen jai Sheelal, had warred so boldly against the hated Huk alongside his beloved Ronderu lij Kummar when he was fully organic.

And for the first time since, well, before his recruitment by the Banking Clan, he feels truly alive.

…

Later, Grievous relaxes beside a campfire he has built, out of sight and smell of most species on Endor.

The Separatist outpost is near. Grievous could reach it by mid-morning. But, he pauses instead, hoping to prolong the feeling that has enveloped him… and he senses that Endor is not finished with him yet.

He notices a pair of glowing eyes from the darkness between the trees. For a second, he tenses, suspecting more trouble. But it is only the young boar-wolf he had fought earlier. It does not look angry, but it does not look dejected, either, like it did when it walked away. It approaches the General slowly, lowering its head, not in dismay this time, but in submission, Grievous senses. Grievous slowly steps forward, and holds the beast's face in his metal hands.

Endor is harsh, and continued existence is the only measure of success here. To be one of the moon's top predators is a good chance at survival… but to **tame** one of the moon's top predators means far more. Grievous has not felt this way since, since he possessed his pet roggwart, Gor, in his private lair.

Morning comes too quickly… and with it Grievous' lifelong companion, fear.

A band of Ewok warriors have arrived and are fiercely fighting his new pet borra. They are starting to overpower it.

But fear gives way to another emotion, anger, and anger gives way to another feeling, malice.

The predator is in danger. _His_ predator. He will not let the Ewoks do to it what the Jedi did to Gor.

The Ewoks move in for the kill. Grievous ignites his lightsabers and wades into battle.

The Ewoks do not stand a chance.

Grievous roars in triumph…

…

"You know what, F-104, FB-24?" says Unit 48 to his respective droid companions, "You were right."

"Really? What about, 48?" FB-24 asks.

"About relaxing. You're right. I see what good it can do even a droid now. What was I thinking?"

"Roger, roger," says FB-24. "Sometimes it just takes a little time for a droid built for war to see the reality of his situation. We knew you'd come around!"

"Thanks for having faith in me," says 48. "You know, on Geonosis, during our official training, the corporate barons who own us made it sound like Count Dooku or even General Grievous would somehow know if you weren't pulling your weight."

"Tell me about it," says F-104. "But in all the time we've been out here, there hasn't been one inspection. I mean are we really all that important?"

"Yeah, how stupid was I, worrying about an inspection?" Unit 48 says, but then he notices the fearful recoils of his fellow droids. All of them. He turns around and gapes.

A familiar masked face, blank but malicious, stares at them silently from four feet away. "Uh, General? Sir, I… I…" but FB-24's voice trails off as Grievous turns and, without a word, walks to their Sheathipede-class transport shuttle and takes off, leaving them behind with no way to leave the planet.

Then they notice a borra glowering at them, barring the gate which is the only exit left. Every droid, B1, B2, BX commando, and LM-432 crab, gapes at it.

The borra growls. "Run for it!" screams FB-24, but it is too late.

The droids do not stand a chance.

…

Serenno, sometime later…

"General Grievous, sir," says a T-series tactical droid. "We were most pleased that you survived the incident at Aargonar. Count Dooku had feared the worst."

"Inform the Count of my arrival and send a crew to retrieve the **Soulless One** from the forest moon of Endor," says Grievous. "Tell them to treat it as if it is worth their lives, or their circuits."

The tactical droid and some battle droids nearby have noticed Grievous' crippled extra right hand and wonder how that happened, but they know better than to make inquiries of the feared General.

"Dispatch a new relay droid team to Endor as well; they will find that the station is currently unmanned," Grievous announces.

"Yes, General," says the tactical droid. "Uh, oh!" a battle droid whispers to its nearby partner. "Roger, roger," it responded.

Grievous ignores the timidity of his droids and starts to walk away, saying, "After my meeting with Count Dooku, I will be in my private quarters, commander. I am _not_ to be disturbed, even in an emergency."

**THE END**

**A/N:** I didn't make up the borra, or boar-wolf. One of these Endorian creatures was shown in the movie **Ewok Adventure: Caravan of Courage**. I did make up the individual battle droids and their numbers, though.

**Please read and review!** I'm still hoping to get some reviews for my previous story, **What Sin Freedom?**


End file.
